Crypts
by Where're Teh Twinkies
Summary: A special for Halloween: Descriptions depicted from the thoughts of five characters, describing a deranged and ominous mystery. What really occurred on Halloween night...the night of Lovino Vargas' puzzling disappearance? I'm loving the Halloween ambiance, guys! This one's short and sweet - kudos, Elvira!
1. Crypt One

**Crypt One : Where**

I see nothing but white and wonder where on fucking earth I am. It's not like I've not seen this before. In fact, I have been living in this hell for an unmeasurable amount of time. It's simply the exact location that's being so damned elusive.

I wonder how I got to this fucked hole. Where is my fucking exit? Shouldn't there be one? If there isn't, then what about the damned entrance? Can I escape some other way? What's the fucking hold-up? How did I get here?

It's not fucking fair, dammit! I've been trapped here God knows how fucking long. This is ridiculous! Where the hell is Antonio? Feliciano? That bastard Ludwig?

I'm desperate, all right? Fucking desperate. I can't even remember my own fucking name! This damned world seems to shift every so often, usually announced by dimming lights or bright flashes. I don't even know what they fucking mean! It's fucking lonely here, and I think the white is closing in on me. The ground vibrates under my feet, indicating some sort of movement. I'm not sure I even want to know what's going on.

I don't want to admit this, but I'm fucking terrified. It's so dense and ominous. The ambiance is amazingly tense, like it's warning me of some kind of fucking predator. Why? I feel like damned prey, like I'm being hunted by some invisible form that's stalking me behind a veil of nothing. The whites are like shadows. They linger like mist and circle me.

I don't want to admit this either, but I know there's no escape. I've wandered around for a damn long time. I…I don't know how much longer I can sustain myself in this damned place without any food or water. I've searched for something, anything, that could help, but there's fucking nothing! How the hell did I get here?! This is so damn fucked up!

What the hell did I do to deserve this hell hole?! I'm not fucking married to it! Why am I still here?! It's been fucking hours, maybe a whole day, I'm sure. What the hell kind of deranged bastard would lock me away here, of all places? All I want is a fucking exit. Is that too damn much to ask?!

Antonio! Fucking get me the hell out of here! Dammit—my knees have given! I can't fucking stand. Dammit, I can't even sit up! I'm so fucking tired. I feel…Damn, I don't know. I don't know anything, dammit.

I can't remember a damn thing! Wait…there was a man. Dammit, who was he? I was walking home. I can't see his face; my memory is slowly dissolving. It's so blurry, but I can see his suit. He had…uh, green eyes? Maybe dark…Damn, no, they were green. There were…what were they? Fuck, they were little black things. They were hovering by his shoulder...


	2. Crypt Two

**Crypt 2 : Hollow**

Halloween was fun! It's over now, but I had more fun than I've ever had before! The journey home was long, but the lights from fratello's cottage are shining at the end of the street. It's kinda scary to walk home alone, but Ludwig said he'd be back soon.

There was a party. It was only Alfred and Kiku were there. They invited me, but I'm afraid to watch scary movies! So I walked home instead. Ludwig is carrying a pie right about now! I wonder what kind. I hope it's pasta flavored!

The front door is open. But why? Lovino always locks the door. He's so scared of people breaking in! I wonder if he knows I'm home? Well, he's not in the living room…or anywhere! Maybe fratello is upstairs? Or maybe he's out! He doesn't like Halloween, though…There's the basement. Oh, yeah, it's locked! It's always locked. Stupid me!

He had some sort of weird dream last month and hasn't unlocked the basement door since. He says 'there's a chill down there.' I don't know what that means. Maybe he has a lot of ice down there! That would make sense. But what if it really is open? Maybe I should try…

Nope. It's locked!

I call fratello, but he doesn't answer me. I walk to the kitchen. Lovino! Where are you! I thought he was going to cook pasta. But he's not…Fratello? He always cooks a lot during holidays. Maybe he's at the store? Ooh, I hope he brings back more chocolate!

But he hasn't left in a while, I remember. Not since that weird guy knocked at the door. He had a really small hat! I thought he looked like the Cheshire Cat! He had really weird eyes. They were all dark and creepy and he didn't really have a nose. Well, kinda. But it was kinda small. Fratello told him to leave because he had a date with Antoino that night.

That weird guy said our neighbor told him Lovino was home…I was wondering about that. I remember I thought, I hope he doesn't steal all our pasta! That would be horrible! I told Ludwig about it. He thought it was strange. I don't really know why. I wonder why he thought it was strange.

Fratello! Lovino! Is the pasta ready? Oh, he hasn't even started. There's a bowl of tomatoes on the counter. And beside it, there's a…I don't know what that is. I wonder what it is. Is it a needle? Oh, no, I don't like needles! But why did Lovino have a needle?

The back door is cracked. There's a crack in the glass, too. Did something…The floor mat is crooked! But it's always straight. Lovino always makes sure it's straight. Maybe I should check out back. Perhaps fratello has the grill thingy on. Wow, it's really cold by the blender. Really cold. I don't have a jacket…It wasn't cold just a second ago.

I think something's wrong. Is something wrong? Fratello? Lovino? Lovino? Where did you go? Are you outback? Lovino?

There's something in the sink…What's…

Is this…Ahhh…

LUDWIG!


	3. Crypt Three

**Crypt 3 : What**

I can't believe this.

Feliciano was sitting on the front porch when I arrived at the house. He was shaking intensely; I've never seen him so terrified. I asked him what was wrong. He shook his head and continued to tremble. It frightened me.

He had left the door open. I walked inside and noticed the School of Athens mural on the wall by the stairs. Its frame was cracked. It's up there hanging on one hinge, as if someone slammed a door upstairs and rocked it harshly. I've never seen any cooked object in Lovino's house. He keeps everything so straight…

Then there was the basement door. As always, it was locked. I didn't think much about it at first. Next, I walked into the kitchen. Feliciano was cowering in the arch of the front door. It's in there! He exclaimed. Ludwig! It's—it's in t-the sink!

Of course, now I was curious. Confusion and puzzlement. I was a mix of emotions, some I still can't identify. I felt as if I were playing a role in some horror movie; Prom Night, our neighbor said later. I haven't seen that movie, but maybe she's right.

The kitchen was as normal as I'd ever seen it, but there was a distinct chill in the air, as if I'd just missed a murder in that very room. I shivvered and paused in the doorway. It was strange; Lovino always cooks during the holidays. Honestly, he's damn good at it. I don't exactly prefer his cooking, but if I had to choose between Francis' cooking or Lovino's, I'd favor Lovino. Sure, he's not the easiest to get along with, but he can certainly cook.

As I stated, Lovino loves to cook. But the kitchen was barren, as if no one had stepped foot inside in years. The floor mat by the back door was slightly crooked, like the painting. I rationalized what could have happened: Lovino had rushed out the backdoor. From a predator? Perhaps.

It was time to check the sink. My heart pumped erratically. I haven't felt so dreadful, so disturbed since the week I spent in a military camp after my parents had decided they'd had enough of me. That camp has been in my dreams since; they experimented there. A group of us escaped, and I hadn't felt so sick since.

But that kitchen…I can't describe what gripped my heart. The air was thick and sour, and I felt as if I were being stalked. For a moment, I was sure there was someone around the corner behind me. It's only me and Feliciano, I told myself. And Lovino.

Instead of checking the sink, I called Lovino. Lovino! Where are you? Surely he didn't leave, I thought. Lovino hadn't left the house in over a month. Maybe he had lost it…? No. Lovino was the last person on earth I could ever imagine losing his mind. He wasn't the sort.

He didn't answer and my heart constricted. I was going to have to check the sink. But what was there? What could be so horrible? I wondered if perhaps Lovino and Feliciano were playing a Halloween trick on me. But Lovino di—doesn't like jokes. He's too serious for those. I still wondered…and hoped.

I started towards the sink. He chill became immense the closer I came. It was unsettling and I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't just skip the sink. Not after the show Feliciano had put on. So I stepped before the sink…and lost air.

I felt as if I'd been kicked into a hole. I shuddered. I nearly convulsed.

Mein Gott, what the hell has happened? Mein Gott, I don't even—it—I can't—I couldn't tell what I was seeing for a moment.

There in the sink was part of an eyeball. It had been split in two and the muscles and cords were still attached. The steel around it had been washed in a dark red; blood seeping from the eye. I'd bet anyone who hadn't actually been there would wonder where the other half of that eye was. My brother, Gilbert, asked and asked until I…I snapped and shouted at him to leave me be.

But if you were actually there, seeing what I was seeing, I guarantee you wouldn't have thought anything. Nothing. Your mind would be as blank as mine. Empty, vacant, bewildered. My mind hadn't the capacity to think any more. It shut down the instant I beheld that scene. I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach. As if someone had slapped me.

The iris was green. There were small, black specks, like rusty flakes that had rubbed off of an old bicycle handlebar. They were lodged in the white like glass shards.

I realized why the air was so dense, so sour, and my heart plummeted to my stomach. Mein Gott! Where is Lovino? Feliciano! Take out your cell and call 911! Is this a Halloween trick? No?! Dammit, mein Gott, call 911!

Feliciano began to cry and he fiddled with his phone as his trembling fingers pressed buttons. I hurried out of the kitchen, out the back door, hoping, wishing, praying that Lovino would be outside. He isn't my favorite person, but he's like family to me. He, Feliciano and I have known each other for years. And this act was inhumane to an extreme. This was disturbing. I'd seen experiments at that camp. This was different. This wasn't just horror.

This…is murder.


	4. Crypt Four

**Crypt 4 : How**

Lovino Vargas. Missing 10/31/12.

Where has he gone?

I practically busted my own front door down when I heard Feliciano's scream. He always plays pranks on Halloween—not very good ones, but pranks anyway. He always ends up scaring himself. But this time was different. It was blood-curdling. The hair on the back of my neck stood like soldiers at attention.

He was sitting on the porch, sobbing. He had left the front door open. I asked him, Feliciano! What's wrong? Are you okay?

No, bella! He cried. I—I don't know! Help me!

I didn't know what he meant. I looked inside, but Lovino wasn't home. I guessed he had left for a while, or maybe he was in the basement. I asked Feliciano, dude! Where's your brother?

He couldn't even talk straight. He kept rambling and blubbering incoherently. Finally, I rushed back to my house to grab a phone. I asked Feliciano if he wanted to come, but he told me he couldn't stand. I told him, don't move! I'll be right back!

I returned with my phone. Ludwig had also returned. He was as white as a ghost. I thought he would be ill! He looked nauseous and he was trembling. Feliciano was sobbing. He had called someone. I asked Ludwig, who's he calling?

Ludwig stares at the ground. He's acting as if I'm not here. A number of ideas and thoughts rush through my mind, murder being the prominent one. Maybe I watch too much Sherlock and NCIS, I don't know. But Feliciano never sobs like that. Well, he does, but he's not as desperate and frantic sounding. Ludwig has never looked so forlorn.

What happened? I whisper. I came here, and Feliciano was crying. I leave for a minute, and now he's sobbing! Ludwig, where is Lovino? He wasn't inside…

Wait. I trail off. Wait. Wait a second. What's really…confusing…I'm confused. I'm not sure what to say. My heart is pounding. It's Halloween! The best time of year! What's—is it a prank? Are you bastards pranking me? This isn't cool, guys! This is really freaking the hell out of me!

I don't know vere Lovino is, Ludwig says. His eyes seem to have sunken into his skull. What do you mean? I ask. Ludwig, fuck, what the hell is going on?! Fucking tell me!

He stares at me for a moment. He looks distant, as if cursed by a trance. He doesn't move. He's so still I wonder if he's even breathing.

Lovino…he's gone.

Gone where?

…I don't know. I don't know. There seems to have been…a struggle.

A struggle? What the hell is that meaning? What does it mean, I mean?

The backdoor mat is crooked. There's a painting that's hanging from one hinge. There's…He swallows. There's a damn eyeball. In the sink. Mein Gott, there's a damned eyeball in the sink!

My heart leaps into my mouth. What, is he serious? He can't be! Are you kidding me?!

It's—Ludwig stops himself and glances at Feliciano, who's finally gotten someone on the line. My legs are jelly. I'm not even kidding. I can't feel my big toe. My brain is fuzzy, like I've stood too quickly or too tired to process. I feel numb from my feet up.

My fratello is gone! Feliciano sobs. He's gone! I don't know! H—h—he's go-o-o-one!

Ludwig takes the phone and asks me to cover Feliciano's ears. Come here, Feli, I murmur. I try to sound soothing but my voice quivers, betraying me. He sits on the porch swing and I sit next to him and clasp my hands over his ears. His despair is almost sickening. He turns and hugs me as if I'm the last standing object in a world that's slowly tilting.

Hell, my head is tilting.

Yes, I'm Ludvig, Ludwig says into the receiver. Yes, I—my friend returned home. Yes, trick or treating. Yes, but when I returned, he was on the porch sobbing. N—no, I don't—well, no. No, dammit! I jump at his ferociousness. Listen! Lovino Vargas' house is alvays even! A painting was hanging on one hinge, the door mat by the backroom was crooked, and—mein Gott, there was a damn eyeball in the sink!

I hear the buzzing on the line stop. It's silent. The operator is silent. Then the buzzing resumes. Mein Gott, it was sliced in two, Ludwig croaks. With precision. It's green. I think my heart's stopped. No. No, Lovino's eyes…they're green. No, I don't know vat happened. Dammit, I don't know! Get someone out here, now! Hurry!

And he snaps the phone shut. I feel as sick as he looks. You think it was Lovino's? I wonder hoarsely.

Ludwig falls silent. He clenches his jaw and takes a deep, shuddering breath. I feel sick. Holy shit, my neighbor just died…and I didn't hear a damn thing. Nothing. I heard nothing. I heard nothing. I heard nothing. Nothing. I didn't hear screaming. I didn't hear anyone. I didn't see anyone. I didn't…I could have fucking done something! I could have gone to check Lovino, I could have cooked with him even though he whacks me with his frying pan every time I step inside his kitchen, I could have harassed him, anything. Anything! Holy—Lovino! It can't be him! No. No. No. No. No.

No! It can't be so, it can't be, holy shit, no, it's not Lovino. Please! Please, God, tell me he's not actually gone! He's been my neighbor since I was in diapers! We all grew up together! Don't tell me he's gone! Please, please, please.

What will Antonio say? Holy shit, Antonio. Holy shit, holy shit, oh, God.

I look at Ludwig and sob, Antonio! Oh, God, Ludwig, Antonio! Shit! Oh—no—no!

Ludwig sinks to the ground and sits on the metal plate in the doorway. He puts his face in his hands and does not move.

There is an eye in the kitchen sink of the Vargas' house. And it's probably Lovino's. And he's missing. And Antonio will have to be told.

Holy shit, Feliciano, Antonio, Ludwig.

Holy shit.


	5. Crypt 5, But Not the End

**Crypt 5 : Lost**

I was at a business meeting until now. And on Halloween! I'll tell you, I was very upset when they told me the meeting would last until the midnight hours!

But, fortunately, it ended around ten. I rushed out, eager to be on the road to Lovino's house. My darling tomato eater…I'd spend every second of every day with him if I could. But work is like a chore…

Anyway, I was having pretty erotic thoughts when I hopped into my Suburban. The first thing in my mind was to call Lovino, and I started to when I noticed a flashing icon at the bottom of the Droid. It was a voice mail. From Ludwig. And it was sinister.

He was murmuring the words as if he wanted to break some kind of horrible news gently to me. I didn't know what he was talking about: Antonio, there's been…some sort of…Mein Gott, I'm not sure vat to call it. Please, Antonio, just, uh, get here soon. I'm…praying for you, Antonio.

What does that mean? I thought. A what? What's happening? Why didn't he tell me? Praying for me…?

I couldn't allow myself to be trapped in thoughts and wonder—I stepped on the gas and sped down the highway. Lovino's house wasn't too far from my business, but I felt no relief knowing he was close by. Something was wrong. Ludwig never talks or sounds like that. I didn't know what came over me, but I felt nauseous; a wave of cold crept up my spine.

In a matter of minutes, I was speeding down Drakut Avenue. There was a distinct chill in the air that's lingered since I first arrived here this night. Blue and red lights flashed in front of Lovino's house, lighting up the sky like an aurora. Confused, I stumbled out of my car and clambered over the police tape boxing in Lovino's front yard. An officer blocked my view and he held me still with a heavy hand on my shoulder.

This is a police investigation, he snapped. No trespassers or—

Antonio!

Alfred, the neighbor, pushed the officer aside and grabbed me. Feliciano followed him and he burrowed underneath my arm, as if trying to hide his face from something. I looked at them both and wondered, what's going on? Why are they crying? Where's Lovino?

He's our f-friend, dude! Alfred shouted at the officer. Leave him alone—he's—he was—he is Lovino's love. The officer bowed his head and turned to leave.

Ludwig was standing before me a few seconds later. He looked worn down and exhausted, as if he'd been mourning or crying for some while. He sighed and looked me directly in the eye. There was something dark there. Something frightened.

Feliciano began rambling. He sobbed and clutched his arms around me as if I were the last thing standing. Alfred's face was red, his eyes were puffy.

Ludwig, I said, voice hoarse, what's happened? What's going on? Why are they—

Lovino is missing.

I'm not sure if I've heard him right; the noise and sirens are so loud. What was that?

Ludwig sighs. Antonio…Lovino is gone. Ve don't know vere he's gone, but there's been…a struggle.

A struggle? I repeat, lost for a moment. What he's saying really can't be true…it…Lovino is gone? Ludwig, what do you mean he's gone?

Ludwig places a hand on my shoulder. He's trying to comfort me. Antonio, he says, Lovino…He's novere to be found. He may…vell, he's been attacked. By whom, no one knows for sure yet. But…Mein Gott…Antonio, one of his eyes had been sliced in half.

My heart drops into my stomach—how do they know it's Lovino's? An eyeball? How do they know if it's Lovino's?

It's green, Ludwig says. The exact color of Lovino's eyes. I feel bile rise in my throat. There's no vay ve know for sure if Lovino is…Vell, no one can find the other half of the eye, but part of it is in the kitchen sink. I saw it ven I vent in there. Feliciano saw it first.

But it can't be—

Antonio, another voice calls. I turn to face a detective. His badge says, Fredwardo. Can you answer some questions about the victim? He asks.

I nod stiffly. I can't feel my arms anymore. Sure, sure…

The detective pulls out a pad of paper and a pencil from his coat's pocket. Where have you been up until now?

At a business meeting downtown, I growl defensively. What, the bastard wants to know if I did it? How could he possibly assume that I'd do something like this to my poor Lovino, my poor, poor tomato eater…?

The detective jots my answer down. How long have you known Lovino Vargas and when was the last you saw him?

I've known him since I was…Jeez, five? I can't remember when I've ever been without him…I take a deep breath to still my nerves. Lovino's going to be all right. He's got to be. The last I saw him was this evening. We ate breakfast together and spent most of the day that way until one of my associates called me about the meeting tonight. It was originally supposed to last from six to midnight, but it ended earlier.

I see. The detective licks his fingers and flips the filled paper over. He scribbles something down on the empty space in the left hand corner of the new note and looks up at me. You are his lover, yes? If so, has there ever been anything odd that's struck you about Lovino?

I begin to shake my head but pause. Well, aside from being a neat freak, he's mentioned that he's had some strange dreams lately. He's never had a night terror until the past month here.

Can you tell me about these dreams?

I lick my lips, concentrating. He said…he mentioned a man with no eyes. He came into his room and dragged him into the basement. When he woke up, he ran downstairs to check if the basement was empty or not. When he stepped inside, he told me there was…I gulp, unsure if I can finish. I don't know if I can tell him anymore; Lovino's dreams…they're so—disturbing, freaky—painful! All within the last month. All during that time frame…what if this has something to do with that?

Please, continue.

I deeply inhale once more. He told me there was a hand…protruding out of the cement at the bottom of the stairs. He said it sickened him and he's kept the basement door locked since.

Detective!

We all turn. A younger officer with white blonde hair bounds up, a disturbed glint in his eyes. He looks at me and shudders. You're Antonio, aren't you, dude? Your buddies told me about you.

I—y—yes, I stammer. I'm Lovino's…

The boy slumps. We've, uh…we've found something. In, uh…the basement. I feel as if I've been punched in the stomach. I cannot breathe. I am numb. My head is fuzzy and I cannot think. My legs are trembling and threatening to buckle. Sir, what we've found is a body. We're not sure if we have a positive match or not. Could you, uh, come check it out?

I nod and start towards the house in a daze. Ludwig follows after suggesting Alfred take Feliciano on a short walk around the block.

Inside Lovino's house, I marvel at the painting on the wall—the School of Athens. It's hanging from one hinge. Before I can examine it any closer, I am being led down the metal grate steps into the basement. The young officer stops at the bottom of the steps and points to the middle of the basement floor.

I collapse against Ludwig's chest. He catches me before I fall and sits me on one of the steps. My heart is in my head. It's so damn annoying. It's tearing me apart. I feel like I've been shredded inside and out. I can't think. My head is mushed and foggy like a dusty crystal ball. I feel as if my eyes have been tattered and ripped from their sockets as I gaze upon the cement covered Lovino.

Lovino. Lovino. Lovino. My poor tomato eater. Oh, God, no. No, Lovino. My love!

He was buried under the cement!


	6. Final Crypt

**Final Crypt**

I see nothing but white and wonder where on fucking earth I am. It's not like I've not seen this before. In fact, I have been living in this hell for an unmeasurable amount of time. It's simply the exact location that's being so damned elusive.

I wonder how I got to this fucked hole. Where is my fucking exit? Shouldn't there be one? If there isn't, then what about the damned entrance? Can I escape some other way? What's the fucking hold-up? How did I get here?

It's not fucking fair, dammit! I've been trapped here God knows how fucking long. This is ridiculous! Where the hell is Antonio? Feliciano? That bastard Ludwig?

I'm desperate, all right? Fucking desperate. I can't even remember my own fucking name! This damned world seems to shift every so often, usually announced by dimming lights or bright flashes. I don't even know what they fucking mean! It's fucking lonely here, and I think the white is closing in on me. The ground vibrates under my feet, indicating some sort of movement. I'm not sure I even want to know what's going on.

I don't want to admit this, but I'm fucking terrified. It's so dense and ominous. The ambiance is amazingly tense, like it's warning me of some kind of fucking predator. Why? I feel like damned prey, like I'm being hunted by some invisible form that's stalking me behind a veil of nothing. The whites are like shadows. They linger like mist and circle me.

I don't want to admit this either, but I know there's no escape. I've wandered around for a damn long time. I…I don't know how much longer I can sustain myself in this damned place without any food or water. I've searched for something, anything, that could help, but there's fucking nothing! How the hell did I get here?! This is so damn fucked up!

What the hell did I do to deserve this hell hole?! I'm not fucking married to it! Why am I still here?! It's been fucking hours, maybe a whole day, I'm sure. What the hell kind of deranged bastard would lock me away here, of all places? All I want is a fucking exit. Is that too damn much to ask?!

Antonio! Fucking get me the hell out of here! Dammit—my knees have given! I can't fucking stand. Dammit, I can't even sit up! I'm so fucking tired. I feel…Damn, I don't know. I don't know anything, dammit.

I can't remember a damn thing! Wait…there was a man. Dammit, who was he? I was walking home. I can't see his face; my memory is slowly dissolving. It's so blurry, but I can see his suit. He had…uh, green eyes? Maybe dark…Damn, no, they were green. There were…what were they? Fuck, they were little black things. They were hovering by his shoulder.

He held a spade. Not a shovel; a card. It was splotched with something…I—dammit—it had to be ketchup. But he slid it into his pocket. He was wearing bowling pants. They were striped with gray and white. He said something…and—shit—it wasn't him. It was me. It had to be. I was fucking scared. I asked him what the hell he wanted.

He…shit, I remember. He couldn't have spoken. He…Shit, there was a shadow. He stepped out from my doorway—my doorway, right?—and—shit, his lips. He had none. His mouth was stitched over, like the mouth of a rag doll or some shit. He had these fake eyes.

He…no, he pulled them out. Shit! He had no eyes! Fuck! His skull was fucking messed up—his eyes sunk in and he tried grinned. His—dammit, that's fucking sick! His lips—the skin—it split and separated. There was no blood, but I could see inside the gashes, under the skin—fuck! I don't want to fucking remember that!

What did he do?! What did he do to me?! How—why the hell did I forget all that? How did he send me here? This is fucking—dammit! Antonio! You told me you'd be waiting for me! Was I still at my house? Dammit, I ran, I remember. He picked up the rusty cleaver on the counter. Feliciano wasn't home, he was out with that bastard Ludwig! Fuck! I had no one!

I fucking ran and—I don't fucking remember. Fuck, what the hell happened to me?! Why the fuck can't I remember?! I didn't die, did I? Fuck! I can't have! I was fucking fine! Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, no. I'm not fucking dead. I'm not. There's no way in hell.

Fuck! Dammit! Where the fucking hell am I?!

Antonio! Fuck!

I can't get up. I can't fucking sit. I can't fucking stand. I can't move. I'm so cold. I can't feel my toes. My feet hurt. They're being needled. Fuck, I can't move.

Wait…That man chased me outback, didn't he? He did—he had long, long legs and stood over me. He towered. I ran out the backdoor and almost tripped on the mat. But—fuck—he was fast. Too damn fast! It grabbed me and dragged me back inside. What—what—what—dammit, he had a shovel and he hit me. He took me to the kitchen and...My eye. He grabbed the clever and...yeah...and then he threw the clever into the damn tomato basket.

He dragged me to the closet and opened the door.

I always keep it locked. It's always locked. I can fucking swear on my life that it's always. Locked. But it opened. It fucking opened. And I was pulled inside. I could see its back—it was dressed in some kinda tunic. Like ripped cloths. There was blood all over his feet—the damn things were bare—and he had this really twisted laugh. I tried to get away, I really fucking tried. I kicked it, but it didn't stagger. I screamed, but no one heard me. Huh…I thought for sure my neighbor would hear me. He's a damn American. They get a kick out of horror crap.

But there was no one. He…it just dragged me. Dragged me to the bottom of the staircase. And as I went, hands rose through the gaps under each step, reaching for me…I don't know if they wanted to drag me down under the stairs with them, or if they were trying to rescue me…but it didn't matter. It didn't fucking matter. They grabbed by shirt, my pants, even my hair. But they couldn't keep their grip. I was ripped out of their grasps by that…thing.

Finally, I reached the bottom. I hit my head on the last step. It disoriented me. I couldn't think for a minute. I felt bile rising up my throat. My heart almost tore through my chest. It almost hurt. Hell, the anticipation hurt more than anything else.

When I tried to stand, I couldn't. I was so damn weak it humiliates me. I could turn my head, though. And when I looked…

He was staring at me. It was staring at me as it dug a hole in the cement ground. I didn't even realize what it was doing at first; I couldn't register anything but the fact that the damn thing had no eyes. At least they seemed as if they'd sunken into his skull before, but now, there was nothing. It was as if the flesh in his sockets had been ripped out.

No eyes…huh…fuck…

They were soulless gouges. As if nothing had ever been there. They were so…fucking terrifying. I felt numb. Holy shit, I couldn't move, think, feel, nothing. But I could smell. I sure as hell could smell that irony, thick must. Damn, the room smelled heavily of blood. It was so dense, it made my eyes water. And that thing had no eyes. Its skin was as yellow as aged paper and its lips were sewn shut. Its nose was chipped off at the end, revealing rotting muscles inside. Again, it tried to smile. And again, its skin was torn.

You know how there are those stupid bastards who say they were so scared they couldn't even breathe? Well…that's not a lie. That's a fucking fact. I couldn't even…God, I don't know. I don't know. My head was swirling and twisting around and around. And it penetrated the cement with the tip of a spade. Finally, I gathered my wits enough to turn my head away. Maybe I should have kept my eyes on him, but I couldn't stare at him for much longer. If I had, I would have been so desperate to kill myself, I would have held my breath until I suffocated myself.

I had some hope. I had to be okay, I had to be. I finally forced myself onto my wobbling feet and tried to make a run for it, but it…the damn thing caught me by the collar and tossed me into the hole it had dug. I got up and punched the bastard right in the face. What I assume to be some kind of rotted or a mixture of different body fluids squirted from his face. That fucking gross shit got all over my hand! But it didn't even flinch, didn't even pause. It's face was punctured where my knuckles had collided. Damn that thing—it was fucking sick!

It's grin widened and he started…he started…God…

He started burying me.

Holy shit, he buried me. He buried me in the basement floor.

I'm dead…aren't I?

Please…don't tell me I'm fucking dead. Let me move, dammit! Let me move. Don't keep me here, like some damned caged bird. This isn't fair. I…can't…

Lovino, someone calls. Why won't you wake up?

A gruff voice laughs. He's going to recover, Mr. Carriedo. He's going to be fine. He'll wake when he's ready.

The fuck? So…I'm not dead?

I'm not dead…Thank God. Holy shit…

I'm going to live!


End file.
